Closer
by nevereatdirt
Summary: Your name is Kankri Vantas and your feelings have you twisted up inside.


You don't know how long the two of you have been doing this. How many sweeps you've been meeting I'm secret or how many you've been pailing with him. How many you've been disgustingly flushed for him.

And as you stand at the door of his hive, waiting for him to answer the door, you dread telling him how flushed you are. He doesn't want that with you. He's more interested in the girls and you know that. But you've broken your vow for him and you just want to keep breaking it until the two of you are one.

The door opens and he stands there, lithe and lean against the doorframe. You stand awkward and small in front of him, meeting a memory of his deep violet eyes with the hallow whites of your own. Each time you see his eyes, his eyes like they were when he was alive, you're reminded of just how far from your grasp he would have been in life. Of how low you are on the hemospectrum. But you don't care. And and he leads you into his hive to his human bed, you just want him to hold you and kiss you sweetly.

You've known his gentle kisses before. Before the two of you had pailed. Before that's all that the two of you were. Before he was a dirty secret. You miss how soft his lips used to be. Now his kisses are all aggressive and needy. Like each one could be his last. At first you liked this. But now you just want softness and sweet touches.

You reach his block and he pushes you back onto the bed, crawling on top of you and kissing you with his teeth gnashing against your lips. Like this is some sort of sordid, black affair. But you just wrap your arms around him and pretend that this is what matesprits do. That this is pure, flushed adoration instead of complete lust and nothing more.

A hand moves up under your sweater and undoes your belt before he's undressing you with confidance. It's so unlike the first time, when his fingers fumbled and he laughed at himself as he moved. When you thought that he was flushed too.

You let out a soft sound when he pulls your pants and briefs down, letting his icy tongue lap against your unsheathed bulge. In all of the times you've done this, you've learned that Cronus is the kind of troll that needs to do something with his mouth. Whether it be kissing or sucking or this. So few trolls do this from what you've learned in your research, but you don't know why. His tongue feels so perfect against you and the drag of his lips makes you love him even more.

Love? You cover your mouth as you think the word. Such a human word. You wonder if that's what Cronus feels for you, but something tells you that live isn't supposed to tie your tummy in knots and leave you breathless. That the thought of the one you love shouldn't make you lose all reason and stray from the beliefs that have kept you going for so many sweeps.

Your thoughts are interrupted when his mouth leaves your bulge and he kisses up your abdomen, pulling up your sweater as he goes. By the time he pulls it off of you you're left makes beneath him while none of his clothes have even perceivably moved out of place. You bring your hands up and grip his shirt and he just take the cue from you. He strips down and positions himself over you again.

His lips are against yours before you can think about his lean frame or the violet flush dusting his cool grey skin. His devilish tongue forces your mouth open. The invasive frigidity elicits a moan from you and he takes it as a cue to just keep kissing you while your self-serving bulge pushes itself into your nook. This is the part you have never been able to get used to. Your body betrays you with each moan and whimper and thrust of your bulge, but each betrayal feels so sweet and right just so long as this cold weight rests on top of you.

Without any warning, he pulls your bulge out if its self-pailing cycle and replaces it with your own. The sensation, though pleasant, makes you scream and buck against him. Each thrust and writhing movement makes you see stars and cry out his name, perfect and right on your tongue as pleasure course through your body.

You wrap your legs around him to hold him closer, but everything is over so quickly. Both of you come with a torrent of genetic material resting sticky between you but he just lays against you, curling up around you with a sigh.

This part makes you want to cry. Simply the fact that you feel so strongly for him makes this so hard.

But it's so comfortable and you let him wrap around you, twining your limbs together and nuzzling into his chest.

He's cold compared to you but it's just a comfortably cool heat. And without thinking you muble to him. "I love you, Cronus."

His body goes tense for a split second but then he relaxes and just whispers into your mess of hair. "I know."

You don't ask how he feels about you, or what this is. But knowing that he knows how you feel... It gives you a strange sense of calm and hope.


End file.
